Our life wasn’t impressive by my mother’s standards. But it was full.

One evening, years later, my phone rang. My mother’s name lit up the screen.

“So this is the life you chose,” she said, as if no time had passed.

“It is,” I replied.

“I’m in town,” she continued. “I’d like to see it. Send me your address.”

When I told Anna, she simply smiled.

“Let her come,” she said. “This is who we are.”

And for the first time, I wasn’t afraid of what my mother might see.